Not Your Kind of People
by JGBishop24
Summary: Someone was alike Rorschach, and he thought he could trust her. It was a bet, but he had to take it. One-shot. Slightly Rorschach/OC. NO ROMANCE.


**_Author's note:_**

_This is my first fanfic posted here. This fic was not initially written in English, so I took quite some time to translate it to what I wanted it to mean. Please do point out anything I've written wrong or confusing. _

_There are a lot of references from the comics Before Watchmen: Rorschach and some from Before Watchmen: Nite Owl, also some from the movie Watchmen. I'm very sorry, but I have not yet read the actual comic Watchmen, but I tried my best at watching the movie and reading the prequel of Watchmen. _

_Please beware of wordplay, and the constant change of POV. _

_(I do not own any Watchmen characters.)_

* * *

I knew this was payback for my ignorance. In this society, I am no more than an underprivileged woman.

And that was all.

New York City was cooler than I thought. Maybe it's because I was lying helplessly on the nasty concrete in a random alley in this big city. My dress was already torn…I licked the dry blood that was on the corner of my mouth; it tasted terrible, even though everything I smelled had a scent of copper. I wondered how many ribs he broke as I was struggled with burning pain coming from my abdomen and chest, or my entire body...I tried to stand up, but it seemed that my body was out of control. There were only my fingers that seemingly had some movement.

The ringing in the head never stopped, as if the constant collision with the wall was still going on. Tiredness hit me like a bitch and my eyelids started to fall, I knew this wasn't a good sign. The only comfort beside me was the cold breeze caressing my bruised skin. The blood pounding to my heart sounded like a song in my ears, and the burn in my body began to heat my lungs up. I was lying there with my eyes closed trying to push away all the hurt I felt, but I noticed that something was blocking moon light. So I opened my eyes, only to see a blurred figure stand there as I adjust my vision.

"Hurm…" He had a growling voice.

_Who was it?_ I asked to myself, I didn't have any more strength to fight back any more…

_Is it him again?_ I panicked.

But thinking about what I could do, I closed my eyes shut reluctantly.

_Is today the day I die?_ There was only desperation filled in my head.

I heard him crouch down beside me; I bit my bottom lip to take whatever was coming. A fist or a kick, it didn't really matter anymore.

But nothing happened, there was only silence of the night.

I opened my eyes.

Shivers had gone through the back of my spine, heart beats had started to speed up so fast that I felt breathing stung my lungs. My pupils dilated as I took the shock of who he was.

I was suddenly awake from the nightmare.

* * *

He wore a mask with strange inkblots that were constantly changing their patterns, a fedora hat on top of his head, a brown trench coat that seemed quite cozy with his grayed scarf, striped purple trousers and a pair of heavily unpolished elevator shoes as he walked down his usual route and found something out of place. There was a slick scarf under a woman's leather purse right in front of him.

_A robbery? _He thought.

He followed a pair of heels, a coat and scattered pearls into an alleyway.

"Hurm…"_Woman, lying on the ground. Not making a move or a breath. Seemed lifeless, poor thing._

Rorschach looked down to the woman with ragged dress. Her arms and legs had multiple bruises, and she even had a black eye…_Robbery? Rape?_

He kneeled down to observe this injured woman. Her eyes were closed tight until she looked up and saw Rorschach in front of her; the terror was gone. Rorschach saw her tensed muscles relax as a feeling he did not recognize shine from her stare.

_Saw something in her eyes, can't tell what._

People feared Rorschach; the city also feared Rorschach. No one could remain calm after seeing him. This woman lying here seemed to be more awake than before, but there wasn't any expression that suggested she was horrified. Her racing heart beat had tensed her facial muscle – she witnessed the infamous Rorschach standing within inches of distance.

"Who did this." Rorschach spoke under his mask, with a tone of demand not question.

The woman only stared straight at the constant changing ink patterns on his mask, awed at the impossible piece of technology. In a split second, Rorschach thought she showed a faint smile, but how can this tired woman show such an emotion in front of this great "criminal", Rorschach?

Seeing the woman still in her little world, thinking who knows what, Rorschach decided to speak again.

"Who did this."

Like an alarm rang in her head, she woke up.

"Date." She answered sheepishly without thinking.

"Name." Cleaning up the streets is Rorschach's duty, he wouldn't walk away from this _free assignment_.

"Dick Stewart." She whispered, forgetting the consequences. When she realized what could happen, she frowned at the specious man. _Oh god, shit. Is he going to kill him? What did I do?_

"Please, don't hurt him." She said nervously, knowing a part of her still wanted revenge, her voice was almost inaudible, "he didn't do anything…"

After Rorschach was acknowledged with his new target's name, he did not want to continue listening to this woman's regret of giving the name. He needed to do something for this woman. If Stewart could violently beat up this woman without a particular reason to do so, he must have done or will do this to other women – this man had to be eliminated.

A cold breeze blew in the alley. Sirens rang from a few blocks away; the residents must've heard her screams from the beating. He guessed she was lucky than those other people who were killed by the act of ignorance.

_Time to go. _Rorschach muttered under his mask.

He picked up her coat on the ground and left it on her to keep her warm. She was shocked of his actions, and looked up at him in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry for the trouble…" She apologized for the inconvenience at the leaving man.

He only had stopped a step when he had heard the woman apologizing, but instantly returning to normal. Rorschach left her sight, though his lone shadow had not given her any terror; there was only warmth.

* * *

Like any other usual day, Walter Kovacs was walking down the street holding his "The End Is Nigh" sign, until he was bumped by a rushed woman.

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir." She was genuine. After apologizing, she licked her bottom lip with a scar.

Kovacs didn't say anything, just scanned her appearance in a distance and saw her bruised knuckles.

_It's that woman, almost beaten to death in the alley on the other night._

Her slightly curved brown waves were over her shoulder, still having some cuts and cruises on her face but they were certainly healing okay. Although she was wearing the same coat as that night, this time she did seem a lot _cleaner_ than last time. Thinking about how she wore her clothes, she probably worked for a desk job, or even a person in the higher-middle class.

Of course, she didn't notice the creepy stare Kovacs gave her after she continued on her way to the office.

* * *

Kovacs continued to spot that woman on the streets after the day she bumped into him, but she didn't ignore him like the rest of the people.

_She smiled, every time she passed me. Weird._

Kovacs only used his "human-side" to meet the woman, but inside of him only felt more curious when he saw her.

_Does she know "who" I am? Don't think so. I need to look this woman up._

Until one day, he knew her name.

A man wearing cotton-padded jacket a covered in dirt grabbed that woman's purse. Kovacs saw this happen, as he watched the man ran towards his direction he stretched his leg out. Seeing the tripped thief, Kovacs had become a bit excited, stumping his feet on the man's hand with the purse.

Kovacs crushed the hand as if he was getting rid of something filthy stuck on his shoe. The man on the ground thus screamed for his fractured hand.

Instead wanting to pull the thief off the ground and break his twenty four ribs, the papers scatted on the concrete walkway grabbed Kovacs' attention.

_Lucy Walker_, was probably the woman's name, and the name _Frontiersman_ appeared on the right bottom corner of every single paper. I should be a newspaper office.

_Journalist?_ These information were captured by Kovacs one by one.

"Oh god!" The nervous shout from the woman, or Walker, interrupted Kovacs' train of thoughts.

Seeing her running in shock and then thanking him from what he had done, Kovacs removed his feet from the unconscious man's shattered bones. She only mentioned that here wasn't anything actually valuable in her purse, buts just had some important articles in it.

Kovacs only stared at her back while she bowed down to pick up those papers that were almost blown away by the winter breeze, then picked his "The End Is Nigh" sign up beside the news stall.

Not waiting to let Kovacs walk away, Walker stood by Kovacs holding the crumpled papers and asked, "Ohm, why don't I buy you something to eat. To thank you for all of this. " She tighten her hold on the article she wrote, to gesture what she meant.

Judging by her looks, she wasn't planning anything in particular._ She was pitying Kovacs to give him a proper meal in gratitude. Only if she knew that she was the most pathetic kind._ So Kovacs ignored her, only walked in front of the news stall, and continued on what he was doing before that scum came. The owner was talking to a kid about comics, not realizing Kovacs was flipping through today's papers.

Kovacs turned his head to see if that Walker had gone away, but she was still there. Thinking that not only he could get more information out of her and get a good meal in weeks, he thought he could turn out fine for him.

"Hurm…" was his only answer.

Walker glared at him oddly, "So, that's a yes? Great, how about Gunga Diner? Nine tonight?"

Till, not specifically answering her question, she only slightly smiled to the man and went on her way. Kovacs picked up a newspaper, headline typed up as "Where is the truth?"

* * *

I thought I could _see_ something different from that hobo. He was definitely different from those other people I've meet, even though we hardly chatted.

To be honest, his silence and cold behavior reminded me of murders. Not this city's filth of course, those smart and bright vigilantes that are willing to kill. The sign he keeps on holding really does bring my curiosity out – "The End Is Nigh" – he could be a potential theme of what I'm working on.

I feel pure excitement running through my veins.

I know he _is_ extraordinary.

* * *

Kovacs used to come to Gunga Diner. He didn't have any money nor any friends. There was in fact a kind waitress who used to work there – her name was Nancy. She was nice to Kovacs; there was once when a time Kovacs was badly injured from his night time activities and sent to the hospital by her after he had spit blood all over the diner table.

It _did_ went that way, before Rorschach decided to take care of a _more_ important thing and blew her off the day she was "murdered". She left the city a long time ago; she was the last victim of the Bard, Ronald James Randal.

Yes, she survived, though no one knew where she went to.

Although this Bard was brought to court with a breathing victim, he was eventually acquitted.

_The Jury was on his side. _

_This is a typical event, proving this society is not willing to take the necessary step for its own salvation. _

_But I won't. _

_I know what he's doing in the dark. _

_And I know where he lives._

_This is what you owe me._

* * *

Kovacs thought, maybe, he could trust this Lucy Walker. She was young, brave and attractive, even though her right cheek was bruised and her lips a bit swelled.

"Walter, is it? Nice name." She started a conversation like any other day. "What's special about the sign you're holding every day?" She asked, "It wrote 'The End Is Night', can you explain the meaning of it?"

He dipped some fries into the ketchup on his plate and threw them in his mouth. It didn't seem like he was willing to answer her many questions.

"The End Is Near." He answered while he chewed the food inside his mouth.

"Are you religious?" She tilted her head.

"No." A scene of roaring flames burst from his memories, making him want to throw up.

Walker noticed his face turning a bit pale, so she asked worriedly, "Are you alright?"

Kovacs didn't say anything, only grabbed a hand full of fries to stop what had just came to his mind.

"Okay. So you think the end is near, what about any thoughts on the Vigilante?" Walker thought about her encounter with Rorschach a week ago and the new Vigilante reports that came up on newspapers; Rorschach had become more active lately, and she couldn't help but as this man who thought the world was going to end soon, "Do you think…They help the society? I mean, like, do they do any good to this society?"

Kovacs stopped everything he was doing, and stared at the woman's "pathetic" eyes.

"This _place_ we have…It's horrible." She looked out through the window and to the streets; the night had prostitutes, pimps and gangsters. Of course, there were also normal _people_. "I know they did all those amazing stuff to _help_ this place, but how long can it last? After the Keen Act Nixon proposed in 1977…" She swallowed her dried throat and continued talking to Kovacs, "All we have left is Rorschach. Yes, he kills, and is not accepted by the public or the society, but I would. " Her tone was full of desperation.

"Sometimes, you _have to_ make _mistakes_ to correct things. I am willing to do those mistakes. I am _always_ willing to do them." Kovacs spoke again, about what he told to Daniel Dreiberg, only this time it was the unfamiliar woman sitting to his opposite side.

He didn't care to explain what it meant or to look at the confused face Walker showed; he left her to _think_ about the implications on her own.

* * *

After that night, Lucy Walker had more question than she used to have. But never did she saw Walter Kovacs again. She knew they only had a nodding acquaintance, however, she felt she _knew_ him; not as a person but as the way he thinks – _his_ ideology. He was like an _acquaintance_, it was impossible, but Walker was still working her ass off to find any traces of the despaired man.

On the other hand, Rorschach knew everything about Lucy Walker; from where she was born to those information that is useful _now_. He also found out when Walker got to work or was off duty; which way she went to go home and loads of other life habits. He might seem like a stalker, yet Rorschach had only one intention – _to find out if she's worth trusting_.

Since Kovacs started dodging the inspection of Walker, he bought the _Frontiersman_ papers from the news stall where she bumped in to him. Other than reading what the trends of New York were, it was also for the purpose of Walker's articles.

He had a feeling telling him Lucy Walker could be handy.

* * *

It was until the 12th of August 1985, a man named Edward Morgan Blake fell from his apartment building that caused Rorschach to stop his _interest_ in Walker.

Rorschach gave up everything to investigate the man's death, though his was caught by the cops and thrown into the TV. The television had been broadcasting about either Rorschach or Walter Kovacs.

How can Lucy Walker not know this as a journalist? As a matter of fact, she was preparing to relax by watching the television on the night Rorschach got arrested. The news anchor spoke, "…He has been confirmed as Walter Kovacs." The clear glass of water was dropped from her hands, shattering to more than a million pieces she could possibly imagine.

She never could've noticed that Rorschach _was_ him.

* * *

The night Walker was attacked, she never mention anything that could be related to Rorschach. If she did, there couldn't possibly be no articles or reports on the papers. Those cops even gave the cold shoulder to Walker simply because there wasn't any proof to show it was Dick Stewart who had beaten her up; there wasn't a witness – no one was willing to stand up.

Things like this? It happens every day. And when she met Rorschach in person, it changed her life. Whenever she thought of him, she would exclaim to herself about how lucky she was.

She admired Rorschach – admired his personality, his actions and his spirit.

He was her hope, and she was his hope.

* * *

As the streets became more chaotic than ever, the Vigilantes began to take actions again. Those _illegal_ masked heroes were all over the latest news again. The public also changed their attitude towards nuclear war.

2nd November 1985, there was a massive alien attack in New York. It resulted in ending the Cold War, and creating an alliance between the United States and the Soviet Union to confront the _real enemy_ – Doctor Manhattan.

I felt thankful that I wasn't in New York that day. I went to Boston to visit my father.

I escaped the _massacre_.

Maybe it was because the birth of Dr. Manhattan that persuaded the existence of aliens, and the attack they, _or him_, initiated was true.

I won't.

Because after I returned to the _Frontiersman_, I received an odd package that was sent to the office.

I eventually got hands on this thing from my boss, saying I've wrote a couple of articles about the guy who sent it so it was better to let me handle it.

As I randomly flipped through the pages of this journal while I was still walking to my desk, I accidently dropped it on the floor when I reached out for my chair. It was turned to the last page, and here's what he wrote:

_Rorschach's journal. _

_Final entry. _

_Veidt's behind everything, why? What's his endgame? I cannot imagine a more dangerous opponent. Used to joke he was fast enough to catch a bullet. He could kill us both alone in the snow. That's where we're going now: Antarctica. Whether I'm alive or dead upon this reading...I hope the world survives long enough for this journal to reach you. _

_I live my life free of compromise...and step into the shadow without complaint or regret. _

_Rorschach, November 1st._

* * *

**_Author's note:_**

_I never thought Rorschach could be in a romantic relationship, well, at least it will be very hard for him to accept a woman because he was ascetic. _

_I've written this to give my thoughts on why Rorschach sent his Journal to Frontiersman, and also before that. I hoped that there was at least some who knew what Rorschach was doing and appreciated it. I briefly wrote Lucy Walker as someone who would understood Rorschach, but was sadly on a different path; though their purpose of what they do was similar. _

_The headline typed up as "Where is the truth?" hints the reason why Rorschach became interested in her. Walker was also pursuing answers. It was like the end of the movie when Rorschach asked Dr. Manhattan to kill him, either kill him or let him reveal the truth. Walker is a person who was willing to tell the truth, and not considering what danger it would bring her. _

_It is like how Batman is Gotham City's hope. Walker believed that Rorschach was New York's, or America or even the wholes society's, hope. She admired Rorschach's everything, thinking that he could save them. Whereas in this fic, I wrote that Rorschach understood Walker, and tried to investigate enough to give hope that she would reveal the truth at the end, whether he was dead or alive. _

_He believed that they were the same kind of people. _

_About Dan, I read in Before Watchmen: Nite Owl that Rorschach described Nite Owl as someone that wanted to do something but couldn't dare. This is why Dan wouldn't kill, and why Rorschach killed the priest. The line__"Sometimes, you have to make mistakes to correct things. I am willing to do those mistakes. I am always willing to do them" was also quoted from there (but I wasn't sure about the exact quote since I read it in a different language). _

_Please do review, follow and favorite. I would appreciate it. _


End file.
